


...But Words Will Never Hurt Me

by Scotty1609



Category: Captain America (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers Family, Avengers Tower, Baby Peter Parker, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter calls all of the Avengers 'aunt' and 'uncle', Precious Peter Parker, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Superfamily (Marvel), Uncle Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609
Summary: While other kids ran out to their parents and guardians, Peter was staring harshly at the sidewalk, his little brow furrowed. He had a tight grip on his red and blue backpack (“Like Daddy’s and Papa’s suits!”) and looked very much like he had the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders.Bucky frowned, worried and angry at the same time. Who the hell had made his precious baby nephew so upset?Bucky may not be an assassin anymore, but he wasn’t averse to knocking some heads together to teach some low-lives a lesson....Little Peter hears some not-so-nice things at preschool, and his family deals with the fallout.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 889





	...But Words Will Never Hurt Me

**Author's Note:**

> It's been forEVER since I've written anything (work and college are both evil bitches) and I wrote this fic at like 1 AM while hopped up on sugar and hot tea.
> 
> WARNINGS: use of homophobic 'f' slur; use of ableist 'r' slur

It wasn’t often that Bucky picked up his nephew from preschool. Usually it was Tony, Happy, or Steve who did so. But Tony was in Malibu for a week-long conference, Happy was having a very rare day off, and it was Steve’s turn to cook dinner. Since none of Peter’s usual chaperones were available, Steve had asked his friend to go pick up the little boy.

Bucky wasn’t great with most kids- the whole metal arm and gruff, ex-assassin demeanor was usually a turn-off- but Peter wasn’t any normal kid. He was an adorable, angelic little genius who was constantly questioning the world around him. (“Uncle Buck, why is the sky angry? Does it need a nap?” and “Uncle Buck, why do frogs eat bugs? Daddy says bugs are scary, but frogs aren’t ‘fraid of them!” and “Uncle Buck, why can’t I be a spider like Auntie Tasha? I wanna sleep in webs!”) When Steve and Tony had adopted the infant, Bucky had avoided his nephew like the plague. That was, until Tony dropped a six-month-old Peter in Bucky’s lap and said, “Steve and I are going on date night. You’re babysitting. Have fun!” The night had ended with Disney movies, a warm bottle, and a sleepy baby gumming on fist-fulls of Bucky’s long hair. The man hadn’t managed to stop grinning when Steve and Tony came home, insisting on babysitting Peter every date night from there on out.

The rest was history.

Peter adored his Uncle Buck, and Bucky would do anything and everything in his power to keep the little boy safe and happy. Which was relatively easy, seeing as how his extended family spanned to the whole of the Avengers, and Peter was generally a giggly, happy child.

Which was why it was so concerning to see him pouting at the ground as he trudged out of the school.

While other kids ran out to their parents and guardians, Peter was staring harshly at the sidewalk, his little brow furrowed. He had a tight grip on his red and blue backpack (“Like Daddy’s and Papa’s suits!”) and looked very much like he had the weight of the world on his tiny shoulders.

Bucky frowned, worried and angry at the same time. Who the hell had made his precious baby nephew so upset?

Bucky may not be an assassin anymore, but he wasn’t averse to knocking some heads together to teach some low-lives a lesson.

When Peter reached the gate of the school, Bucky called out to him. “Hey, Peter Cotton Tail.”

Upon hearing his beloved uncle’s voice, Peter’s head snapped up, the creases in his face melting away to reveal a toothy grin. “Uncle Buck!” he cheered, rushing the rest of the way towards the man. He stumbled a bit on the turf, and Bucky crouched down to pull the child up onto his hip. Peter gave his neck a tight hug before going on babbling about his day. Hopefully whatever had been bothering the little boy was soon to be forgotten.

By the time Bucky had strapped Peter into his car-seat, gotten them back to the Tower, and took the elevator up to the communal kitchen, Peter’s mood seemed to be exponentially better. He was gesturing animatedly- a trait he had surely picked up from Tony- as he talked about the fun time he had in science class that day. Peter was still rambling when Bucky walked them into the kitchen, being greeted by Steve with a wave and a kiss on the cheek from Clint.

“You have a good day at school, buddy?” Clint asked his nephew as he took the child from his boyfriend and plopped Peter down on the kitchen counter. Steve must have been in a fantastic mood, because when the archer handed Peter a pre-dinner cookie, the man only protested for a few moments instead of an hour.

“Yeah!” Peter cheered. “We learned ‘bout clouds today! And how when it rains, the oceans suck up the water and then make it vap-er-ate into the sky!”

“It’s _evaporate_ , kiddo,” Steve smiled at his son, kissing Peter’s forehead.

“I _know_ , Papa. That’s what I said!”

Steve chuckled in response. “Of course, Pete. You’re very smart, you know that, buddy?” And Steve was speaking so honestly that it made Bucky feel warm inside. Clearly Clint felt the same way, if the way he _aww’d_ and leaned up against Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky had gotten a lot better with the physical intimacy, seeing as how his boyfriend was a cuddly, mushy octopus.

It was only a little while later that they were all sitting down for dinner, joined by Natasha, Sam, and Bruce. Bucky pretended not to see the way Bruce was gazing dreamily at Natasha from across the table or the way Natasha was playing footsies with him (because really, _the_ Black Widow playing _footsies_? Bucky would have to have JARVIS log that for later blackmail.) Sam was arguing with Clint about something or other to do with a movie series that Bucky had neither seen nor heard of, and Steve was spooning pasta and chicken onto his son’s plate.

Peter had since quieted down, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice that his pout was back. At least the boy seemed more contemplative that upset this time.

About halfway through dinner, Peter piped up in a quiet voice. “Papa?”

“Yes, baby?” Steve addressed his son as he took a drink of water.

“What does _faggot_ mean?”

The room was suddenly dead silent, all of the adults turned to stare at Peter with various degrees of shock. Peter squirmed under their gazes, looking rather uncomfortable and somewhat frightened.

It was Natasha who managed to address the boy’s question first, sharing a glance with Steve- who was still trying to get the cogs in his brain going again- before brushing a curl away from Peter’s forehead. “Where did you hear that word, _lapochka_?”

Peter pursed his lips, clearly thinking over his response with too much seriousness for a four-year-old.

Steve cleared his throat, leaning over the table to meet his son’s gaze. “It’s okay, Peter, you aren’t in trouble. We’re just… concerned about who said that to you.”

Peter looked rather distressed at his family’s responses, leaning up against his Aunt Tasha’s side and playing with the hem of her sweater as he responded quietly, “Eugene said it at recess… He- he said that I was _re-tar-ded_ because you an’ Daddy are _faggots_.” Steve’s fist clenched around his fork, bending the metal easily. Peter clearly noticed and nearly burst into tears. “I- I’m sorry, Papa!” the boy cried out. “I- I did’n mean to make you mad! I _promise_! I just did’n know what he meant, an- an all his friends were laughin’ at me, an’- an’-“ Peter let loose a wracking sob, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks as he cried out, “I’m _sorry_!”

Steve immediately relaxed his shoulders, dropping his fork and reaching over to caress Peter’s cheek. “Oh, kiddo, I’m not mad at you. I promise. I just-“ Steve was clearly at a loss for words, distressed at his son’s apologies and sobs and not sure how to help.

Surprisingly, it was Clint who spoke up. As soon as Peter had voiced his question, Clint’s hand had snapped over to grip Bucky’s wrist, holding it in a vice. Bucky, shoulders tensed up and jaw clenched, had rubbed firm circles over his boyfriend’s knuckles to try and calm them both. “You’re not in trouble, Pete,” Clint tried to soothe the child with an oddly calm voice. “Eugene just said some very, _very_ not-nice words. I’m sorry he was mean to you.”

Natasha stroked Peter’s hair as she murmured, “Did Eugene say anything else?”

Sam piped up, “Did he _do_ anything else?”

Peter squirmed, one of his hands going into his mouth to comfort himself. Bruce gently reached over and pulled the little boy’s hand away, instead holding onto it in his own attempt to console the distraught child. “He- he push’d me an’ I fell in the sandbox. It did’n hurt, but- but-“

“But I’m sure that was scary,” Sam murmured, attempting to display all of his concern and love on his face for Peter to see. “You’re very brave for dealing with that, Peter.”

“But- but- what does it _mean_?” Peter whimpered. “I- I know it was a bad word, but I dunno what it _means_!”

Steve looked sad when he said, “It’s a very mean word for someone who loves someone of the same gender. Like how Daddy and I are both boys and love each other, and how Uncle Bucky and Uncle Clint are both boys and love each other.”

“What- what does _re-tar-ded_ mean, Papa?”

Bucky’s eyes slid shut as he tried to control his breathing. He very well couldn’t march into a preschool and threaten a four-year-old for being a little piece of shit. By the way Clint was gripping his wrist, Bucky knew his boyfriend had the same thought-track as him.

Bruce answered Peter’s follow-up question. “ _Retarded_ is a derogatory- er, a _mean word_ for somebody who has a little bit different brain that most people.”

More tears welled up in Peter’s big brown eyes, and he whimpered, “Daddy says my brain is special… Does that mean I’m retarded?”

“ _No_ ,” Steve spoke emphatically. “No, Petey, it doesn’t. And even if your brain was different like Uncle Bruce was saying, it still wouldn’t be okay for Eugene to call you that… Does that make sense, buddy?”

Peter nodded slowly. “Like how Aunt Tasha calls Uncle Clint ‘stupid’? Or how Uncle Sam calls Uncle Bucky a ‘little shit’?”

Steve’s glare whirled around on Sam, who shrugged sheepishly and mouthed _“sorry”_. Clearing his throat once more, Steve looked back to his son. “Similar to that, I guess... And what Uncle Sam said is also a mean word, so we shouldn’t say that either. Okay?”

“Okay… I’m still sorry, Papa, I _am_ -“

Steve rose from his chair and walked around the table to bring his son into a bear-hug. Peter immediately wrapped his arms around his Papa’s neck, burrowing his face into the man’s shirt. Steve kissed the boy’s mop of curls and inhaled deeply the scent of his baby shampoo. “I know, Peter, but you have _nothing_ to be sorry for, okay? I hope you know that.”

“Does- does Eugene have to get in trouble?” Peter said softly. “I don’t think he knew those words were bad. I don’t think he’d of said ‘em if he knew they would hurt your feelings, Papa…”

Steve smiled sadly as he pulled away from Peter, his arms still wrapped around the boy as he looked deep into his son’s eyes. “You’re such a sweet kid, you know that?”

“Sweeter-er than Uncle Sam’s cookies?” the child inquired shyly.

“ _Much_ sweeter,” Sam chuckled as he ruffled Peter’s hair. “And I’m sure Eugene would apologize if he knew that those words hurt you Papa’s feelings.”

“You still hungry?” Steve asked Peter. After a worrying beat of silence, Peter nodded.

“Papa, can I have more cookies after dinner?”

Steve chuckled. “Only if you finish all of your peas, buddy.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, a more humorous look than distressing one crossing his features earlier. “ _All_ of ‘em?!”

“Yup!” Steve tapped Peter’s nose, making the boy’s face scrunch up like a little bunny. “Don’t you wanna grow big and strong like Uncle Thor?”

Peter considered for a moment before looking over at Clint. “Uncle Clint should eat more peas, too!”

Clint guffawed as the others all laughed. Bucky felt the knot in his chest beginning to unwind as he leaned over to kiss Clint’s ear. “Sorry, doll, but he’s got a point.”

“I am an _archer_ , James. My biceps have biceps!”

Sam grinned over his glass of water. “But you’ve still got those chicken legs alright. Don’t you ever do leg day?” In sync with his uncle, Peter and Sam both spoke gravely, “ _Never_ skip leg day.”

Another round of laughter at Clint’s expense rippled through the room, but Clint’s wounded façade quickly dropped at the sound of Peter’s bubbling laughter. “There’s our happy Peter Pan! C’mon, kiddo, finish your peas and then we can go play video games.”

“No video games on weekdays,” Steve scolded. “You two can color or play in the training room.”

Peter clapped happily, cheering for playing with the child-approved weights and jungle gym in the training room.

Bucky couldn’t help but notice how Peter still clung to his father when Steve sat back down, going to sit in the man’s lap and leaning back into his chest. The boy clearly still felt guilty, even though he had never been at fault.

Peter eventually managed to finish his peas, earning two small M&M cookies from the treat jar. He giggled when Bruce reached over and tried to take a bite of one of them, squealing, “No-no Uncle Bruce! _My_ cookies!”

Bruce feigned sadness. “Aw, Peter, don’t you want to share with your favorite uncle?”

This started an argument between Bruce, Sam, and Clint over who Peter’s favorite uncle was. Natasha sighed good-naturedly, casting a look at Bucky that read, _‘what can you do?’_. Bucky merely shrugged back, propping his chin on his hand as he fondly watched his boyfriend challenge Sam and Bruce to a death match at Mario Kart for the right of favorite uncle.

In the meantime, Peter had crawled into Bucky’s lap and was playing with the man’s metal hand with both of his tiny ones, making his uncle’s fingers flex and clench shut. Bucky smiled softly and pressed a kiss onto Peter’s head.

Natasha brought the arguing to a close by grinning at Bucky and Peter and saying, “Oh, I think we _all_ know who the favorite uncle is…” Bucky was about to grin back when Natasha spouted, “It’s Thor. _Definitely_ Thor.”

Bucky scowled even as his chest warmed up at the others’ sudden protests. Steve was laughing loudly, and Peter was having a fit of giggles. Bucky reached his free hand down to tickle to boy’s side, and Peter let loose a happy shriek. “Uncle Buck! Stoppit!”

“I dunno, kiddo,” Bucky teased. “You seem pretty tickle-able to me.”

“Nooooo,” Peter giggled as he leapt off his uncle’s lap. “You gotta catch me to tickle me, Uncle Buck! Catch me, catch me!”

Bucky rose to scramble after his nephew, barely catching Clint’s mushy grin in his peripheral vision. Rolling his eyes, Bucky shoved at Clint’s face before following Peter into the living room.

Yeah, they were going to be alright. Bucky was _definitely_ going to have a little ‘chat’ with that Eugene kid’s parents, probably with Clint and Natasha looming on either side of him. But for now, Peter was happy. A giggly, curious, bubbling mess of a kid, but happy nonetheless.

And Bucky would give _anything_ to keep it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry there was no Iron Dad in this fic! I originally set out to make it purely Awesome Uncle Bucky and Precious Baby Peter, but the other Avengers just kinda... fell into place I guess? Maybe I'll do a brief follow-up or a sequel with Iron Dad and Uncle Rhodey?? Shoot me your ideas! I love a good, angsty/fluffy Superfamily fic.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I can't promise I'll be updating anytime soon because of school starting back up soon, but I'll try to pump out some one-shots here and there.
> 
> Love y'all! :)


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